


Come little children

by SinScrivener



Category: Outlast (Video Games)
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-10
Updated: 2019-09-10
Packaged: 2020-10-13 16:17:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20585393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SinScrivener/pseuds/SinScrivener
Summary: The followers, the devout of Walrider do some strange things for their ‘Lord’ and ‘Savor.’ Some go to the extreme to please the voice in their head, others, write messages from the blood of those deemed unworthy, others, seem to just, vanish without a trace.





	Come little children

Father Martin’s POV  
What helped me before was taken. My paintings, my outlet.  
Now, since being freed of this burden of self indulgence, I’ve heard the voice of the God, the Walrider in my ears, louder than ever. I have been chosen to tell the others of his being, to tell them he’s here, to free us all.  
I am the profit of the God, Walrider.  
I told my therapist, but he seems uncertain, worried.  
I smile for him and tell him it wasn’t to be feared.  
Walrider would free us all, even him, I even patted his hand and thanked him for the time spent on me, his time on giving me a few months to myself for the Walrider to come to me so loud and clear as he has never before.  
What once was echoed whispers has become his touch, his guidance in my dreams.  
I assured my Lord I’d do as he told me and he explained I must spread his name to the others.  
We’d be free, thanks to our Lord and Savor, the Walrider, and I was his soul provider of his mighty words.

‘Come Little Children  
I'll Take Thee Away,  
Into A Land Of  
Enchantment’

I first began on those in the above, no more trying to save the doctors, they weren’t much help, they told me I was just falling into my schizophrenia, old age, slipping deeper into madness.  
I pitied them, I assured them they would be given a chance when the all mighty Walrider came and left them to themselves.  
Now I spoke to those deemed safe enough, well enough, to join the most living above, where I lived in a well kept cell for the time being.  
Those watching the ever static TV, the blind, eyeless man left in the hallway, as many as I could find.  
I spoke the Walrider’s words at meal times, standing for all to see, speaking loud enough for them to hear.  
Many looked at me with wonder, some, returned to their meals, ignoring my good words.  
All would be given a chance when Walrider came; I always told myself that and began forming religious meetings in the Chapel.  
My few well minded followers always came.  
But Walrider desired more, he knew there was more and so I chose to venture forth, to the below and if I had to, the hell, the place Walrider was stuck.  
I went to an escort and asked kindly if I could spread my words to those below and with a disturbed look to a fellow escort, I was lead to the elevator, hand on my shoulder, and brought below the above, to spread my Lords wise, powerful words.

‘Come Little Children  
The Time's Come To Play  
Here In My Garden  
Of Magic’

Below was not like above.  
It was always darker, staler, smell of blood, fear, strange chemicals of the Tester’s and Testee’s from the hell. Their bodies racked with deformities beyond knowledge.  
Those below needed Walrider’s words more than the above. They needed to be assured that their suffering would end soon, that Walrider would grant them freedom of their pains and madness when he awoke.  
I thanked the man who, though well armed, I still called an escort, and moved away from him, down the first set of stairs to the first cells we got to and called everyone around and began at once to those who came, my words, the words of the Lord.  
Some scratched their heads, others, whispered.  
For my Lord, I’d keep speaking till I felt done and knew SOME would be followers before I left for the other cell blocks.  
My escort asked me after an hour and a half speaking, if I wished to return above and I chuckled, patted the hand on my shoulder and said, waving a hand outwards to the sea of faces beyond, “There’s yet so many unknowing, my Son. We must venture forth and spread the word of our God!”  
Gently, I took the good mans heavy gloved hand and walked along in my slouch, off to the next, downstairs cell, to the more Tested, the more, Psychotic lot of the Asylum.  
Heaven knew they needed the word of their God more than anyone else aside from the hell that rested below us all.

‘Follow Sweet Children  
I'll Show Thee The Way  
Through All The Pain And  
The Sorrows’

“Come, children, come. I bring news from the above!” I call out as we make it to the lowest cell block.  
Heads popped out, heads turned around from wench they looked before, and silence filled the once soft buzzing cell hole.  
I cleared my throat, smiled, and said, hands out, “I have been visited by the Walrider.”  
Someone looked away but I saw his face was ruined and figured he must not be able to see and kept going without worrying of being ignored just yet.  
“He’s coming. He told me so in many a waking and sleeping dream. He’s going to free us all of our pain, or madness, if we follow him and do his will.”  
“Piggy speaking of the one I must destroy!” A brutish man with bared teeth said and slammed his fist into his palm, “He’s going to kill not save!”  
“Oh my, Son! He’s assured me it’s not like that!”  
“Bullshit.” The one who turned his face spoke up and looked back at me and snipped, “There’s no God! If there was, and we’re so LOVED, why the fuck would he do this to his ‘children?’’”  
“You, you’ve been to the hell-“ I say, pointing to a blister faced man with sleek back black hair.  
“You see him inside your dreams, hear him when your eyes are closed!?”  
“I choose to try and fight it, going down to the Engine brings nothing but horrors, nightmares of things I wanted help forgetting by coming here.” He returns, leaning back along the wall dividing the cells from each other, arms crossed upon his chest.  
“Trager’s right too, sure I’ve SEEN this, Walrider, but if any God cared, why’d he fuck us up-“  
“Why would he make us be so tormented, it’s like he’s saying a few forgotten lunatics is nothing but a way to free the better outside!”  
Pyro!  
“My Son, remember your time above, surly you-“  
“Look at me, ‘Father,’ I wanted out and this… ‘God’ made sure someone caught me before I could be freed. Why would he do that if he knew I was in pain to start with, why not end our pain now?”  
“He has his reasons-“  
“Forget it, I’m out.” Pyro says and gets up, leading Harvey away next who whimpered and chewed a finger.  
“Forget it, ‘Father’ Martin;’ we’re not buying this bullshit. You’re preaching a dead gospel!”  
I shiver some and call out to those remaining, “Anyone willing to follow the Walrider, be assured he has his way, his plans!”  
More walked away, but a small few remained.  
“Come on, Twins. Can’t be for real!”  
The bald one shrugged, the haired one replied, “Can’t hurt to believe in something in this place.”  
“Enjoy the fairytales!” This Trager says and looks away, returning to his dozing or what not.  
I heard those who remained around and began speaking in hushed whispers, knowing the few would soon be outweighed by the many as soon as they saw the Walrider rise.

‘Weep Not Poor Children  
For Life Is This Way  
Murdering Beauty  
And Passion’

I wasn’t allowed down below below, into the hell, but most below WORKED with the Walrider, I was sure they knew his words anyways, and went to bed, smiling, knowing he’d come in my dreams sometime soon and tell me what next needed to be done.  
The morning after going below, those below who believed got a time above to join inside the chapel and there’s where I spoke of the mighty Walrider, our Savor in our dire need.  
I told them I was waiting for someone to bring out the truth and told them, when that day came, we’d truly be free, we’d set fire to the chapel, the Walrider would resurrect us, his followers, into stronger forms, no more to be abused.  
Some cried happy to hear this, others clapped, some even bowed and began to chant, ‘Walrider.’  
I told them of my latest dream, sent by the Walrider, and said softly, unsure we were watched in the house of Walrider, that things had to be done before he came and they listened with ears perked, eagerness on their faces.  
Messages needed to be written, more followers if possible, and most of all, he needed to be pleased in any way possible.  
No matter what it was, I told them to do as they felt was right within them and assured them, the Walrider would be pleased with what they did.  
Our meeting ended and a few Son’s hugged me and thanked me. One kissed my feet and hands.  
The Twins told me they’d speak with those in their cell section about the Walrider and I held their hands with warmth and thanked them.  
As the last member left I saw a vision of myself, crucified upon the cross, burning and knew, this was what Walrider desired and began to the chapel door, asking if I could go to the workshop and construct something very important for my followers.

‘Hush Now Dear Children  
It Must Be This Way  
To Weary Of Life And  
Deceptions’

No matter what they did, the Walrider was sure to be pleased.  
I never mean to hurt, just write, paint the words of Walrider, my paints gone, I needed a substitute.  
Someone had died in a restroom; I looked around, went inside, closed the door, and cut his wrist open and began my first message with, “Witness!”  
Every time we’d meet, a few more came along for the speeches.  
Words of Walrider spread, my Son’s spoke of their contribution to our God.  
Some a bit darker than others, but again, he wouldn’t judge. He’d be pleased with whatever we did.  
It began slowly, but soon it grew wider around the Asylum. Messages, sacrifices, my means.  
Our times soon became watched by those actually concerned by our means to assure the Walrider’s coming was done right and things where given and taken when it came.  
I painted with more blood, in Latin and English, and Doctors and escorts wondered as they brought me below when they found me doing this with a dead body by my side, how I had begun to write Latin.  
Every time they asked I’d smile and point down, “Walrider.” And they looked bothered.  
The Twins began eating livers and tongues, for strength and more voice to help in the cause. Son’s began to go missing, rumor had it, the sewer was running red with blood and rooms became blocked by fowl smelling objects.  
The time was coming, I felt it, Walrider told me so.  
Soon, I needed to free the rest. I needed the unfaithful dealt with as we, his followers, burned for him in the chapel.  
The night came, very badly did it storm. Voices of terror sounded from the far below up to the above about HIM! He had risen, taken into form!  
The time was née, to free those locked away. I knew the above, a follower unlocked me, I went above and pulled the breaker to the cells.  
Screams now abound the Asylum.  
Shots were fired, bodies fell, Walrider fed.  
Walker tried fending off our God by taking bodies and killing them, even Trager seemed bent on killing off our Gods feast.  
They would pay. But not until I helped the Apostle in his quest. He fell from the sky, something in his hands! He’d show the world the truth!  
I warned all my followers to leave him be and painted him signs to follow to the very end.

‘Rest Now My Children  
For Soon We'll Away  
into The Calm And  
The Quiet’

Flames burn so brightly. Like the sun. Bright like the Light of the Heavens.  
We, we would be free. Just as the Walrider said!  
Just… As he…  
Said-

‘Come Little Children  
I'll Take Thee Away,  
Into A Land Of  
Enchantment’  
‘Come Little Children  
The Time's Come To Play  
Here In My Garden  
Of Shadows’


End file.
